The Lucienne Twins

Part 2: The Pen

I wish I could say that was the last I had ever heard of the Lucienne twins. I wish Abigail's story ended with the month she spent at the psychiatrist's office after the incident. But wishes rarely come true. And this was no exception.

Abigail never came back to the school that year. A teacher that was her family friend gossiped with me over a cup of coffee in the break room three weeks later, filling in the details that had kept me awake deep into the night.

"She's staying at home until this whole thing blows over. Three times a week she goes to counseling, though she won't talk to anyone, and only eats if you put two plates in front of her. If you ask me, she was an accident waiting to happen. Poor thing, her grandfather was just diagnosed with terminal cancer now too. And the doctors were able to sew the ear back on- can you believe that? Apparently you can barely even tell it came off. Miraculous."

Miraculous. I'm not sure if that was the appropriate word. Or if they should have sewn it back.

At the end of the year, the school board informed me that I would be moving to another school, a smaller institution for brighter children. I accepted- not because the pay was better, but because I knew it was their kind way to fire me. I could hear their whispers. That I was the one who made the freak crack.

So I packed away my things, and was admitted into Carrie's School for the Gifted. There were no current openings for kindergarten teachers, so I taught second grade. My first year went by smoothly, and I received a small bonus at the end for my student's high test scores.

When I returned from the Summer to start my second year, nineteen out of the twenty desks were filled by young children, their fresh crayons tucked away in pencil bags that still smelled like Walmart. I smiled at them, and introduced myself, writing my name on the board as I talked.

"Hello class, my name is Mary Watkins, and I'll be your new second grade-" Behind me, the classroom door opened, and I heard the footsteps of two students enter. The smile froze on my lips, and my marker jumped across the board as I heard her voice.

"Hi Miss Mary."

I turned. Abigail stood alone in the center of the room. Her silver locket dangled from her neck. Bridget was still burned into her right ear, which looked as if it had never been missing.

"We missed you."

And maybe it was the lighting, but I could have sworn I saw two shadows.

I sat Abigail near the windows. The sunlight calmed her, and she spent most her time staring up into the clouds. Despite this, she still managed to test better than anyone else in the class.

Once, realizing she was not paying attention, I called upon her for a simple arithmetic problem.

"Abigail! What's two times four?"

She continued to stare off, her eyes glassy. The rest of the class twisted in their chairs to watch.

"Abigail!" I repeated, my high heels clinking against the tiles as I walked over to her. Still, no response. I waved a hand in front of her face, flexing my fingers, then touched her face.

Abigail threw her head back and gasped, drawing in a breath so deep it was as if she had been held underwater. Her desk rocked from the momentum and I held it down, forcing my hands over the chilled wood. She thrashed, looking from left to right wildly.

"Abigail! Honey, I'm here!" I shouted, and her eyes met mine.

Tears spilled outwards and she embraced me, her nails digging through my dress and into my shoulder.